Dear Darlene And so it began
by Fallen red rose
Summary: One of my first oneshots, not of increasing quality.This may or may not become a phic, depending on what reviewers think.Our story occurs approxamitely 2 months after The Fire, and Erik is still pleading for Christine's love. Please R&R. GerardBased.


Okay, here goes. This is one of my first one-shots, so it may not be that good. But I got a feeling.  
This may, or may not, become a phic, depending on what you reviewers think. It's up to you.  
Our story occurs approxamitely 2 months after The Fire, and Erik is still pleading for Christine's love.  
So, whether it makes much sense or not, here it is: " 'Dear Darlene,' and so it began."

**  
Erik's P.O.V.**

She slammed the mirror in my face, and I jerked at the sound. I just wish my pleading worked.  
I went back down to my lair. Here is where I make my complaints. Here is where I have been.  
She does not love me. She never has. But, why? Why? Oh, Christine...

I sat down at my organ and played part of the song I sang for her, during her first night down here.  
The song that filled her eyes with wonder, and my spirit with delight. The song that failed to hold onto her.  
That song, that I had hoped would bring her into the light, and show her my love.

Beaten by my failure, I walked away from the organ. Why could she not realize it? I needed her...  
I looked at the burnt mini structure of the stage, and the small melted wax figures on my desk.  
With a sigh, I sat down. I took out a piece of parchment, and dipped my pen in the ink.

It never had before, but I hoped writing would help. Maybe I could think of the right words to say.  
Maybe I could think of the right way to say it, or the right movements to make.  
Taking her here was not an option. She would never hear of it. She hated this place. She hated me.

Just earlier she had told me that she never wanted to hear my voice again, much less see my face.  
She also said that she was so angry with my insensitivity of her relationship with Raoul,  
that she would never even consider the option of marrying me, should something happen to him.  
I never said I would harm him. I was just asking. But I was _thinking_ of harming him, and she sensed it.

I sketched careful strokes on the parchment: "Dear Darlene," I began." I am very depressed.  
About two months ago, I made a rather large mistake. I fell in love with my voice student.  
It was not right, but it happened. One can not help loving another, can they?  
We were happy, simply as friends, for a long time; three months to be exact. Then _he_ came.

Her childhood sweetheart, whom she had spoken of sometimes, had returned. And now he was rich.  
I cannot really blame them, they were in love. I understood why, they seem meant for one another.

But, though it was wrong, I hoped it would end. And soon.

I am so ashamed of what I did next, I do not want to say exactly what I have done. It is still too real.  
I hope you understand why. But, if there is one thing I shall say, it is this:  
What I have done was so terrible, I fear, she will never forgive me for. I need your help, and lots of it.  
I cannot stop loving her, and I never will. I just cannot seem to sit back and let her be happy."

I sat back and stared down at what I had written. I wondered if I should send it. I signed it with:

"Please help me. I need help, any help you have to offer. Please, Darlene.  
With hope,

NO ONE WOULD LISTEN"

As wrote the name I would go by to her, I wondered if it would give my real identity away.  
I shook my head. She would not think about, nor would she care. And I found that helpful.  
I blew lightly on the ink to dry it, and slipped it gently into a normal envelope, and stood.  
Once the letter was in place, I returned home. With a sigh, I laid down. Hours passed.

Thoughts crossed my mind. 'Would it work?' 'Would she care?' Probably not.  
But that was what she did, she helped insignificant people, like myself. Hopefully.  
And, lo and behold, the next morning she replied to my letter. She said:

"Dear NO ONE," It read. I continued, tense. "I am sorry to hear that things have not been going well.  
You have my sincere hopes of a brighter tomorrow. You are right, we cannot help loving someone.  
But we can stop ourselves from letting our unrequited love control our actions, and prevent trouble.  
And sometimes, in bad circumstances, we cannot even achieve that much, my dear.

All we can do, is react with that same love, in our love's best interest. Do you understand?  
In your case, you did not. But you did what you thought was right, no doubt.  
What you did, no matter how terrible, does not change the good person you are on the outside.  
If that was true, then there would be no truly good people in this world. People make mistakes.

We cannot change what has already come to pass, but we can do better next time we have the chance.  
Show your love that you care, and tell that what you have told me: That they are meant for one another.  
If you do this, there is no way that what you have done to hurt your friend and her 'sweetheart',  
that can stop them from forgiving you.

One thing that should be a sure winner into her trust, is giving her 'sweetheart' your friendship.  
It will bring all the chaos to an end, and you **all** should feel better. Trust me. I know.  
With many, many blessings,

Darlene."

I felt myself blush. She was right. I should have done what was right for Christine, and not myself.  
If only I knew then what I know now... What I know now, is that I should take Darlene's advice.  
I will do my best to make peace with Christine and Raoul. Then maybe, just maybe, she will accept me.  
Lo and behold. Love will come to me at last. Yet, not in the way I had thought before.


End file.
